


Repercussions

by elescritora



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 08:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18687844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elescritora/pseuds/elescritora
Summary: Kathryn and Seven's relationship is in jeopardy due to a secret Kathryn has been keeping.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in November 2003.
> 
> This story fulfills the following challenge:  
> \- Have the first words Seven says be “Oh, Miss, what a thing to do!”  
> \- Have Janeway say somewhere within the story, “You broke my heart.”  
> Both lines originally come from the fabulous lesbian themed mini-series ‘Tipping the Velvet’.

“Ha!” Janeway shouted triumphantly as the beam of her phaser hit the red light on the disc. “Hit!”

She and Seven were playing their regular game of velocity a little more competitively than usual. Janeway whirled quickly out of the way as the disc came careening back towards them. Stumbling a little, her elbow connected solidly with Seven’s side. The air rushed out of Seven’s body as she impacted with the floor, reacting too slowly – the disc hit her hard on her shoulder.

“Oh!” Seven gasped; partly for breath, and partly from pain. Janeway had pointy elbows. Glowering at the disc lying beside her, she watched as the blue light blinked out, the computer informing them of the score. Janeway had won – again.

“Miss,” Seven ground out. She glared up at the captain, and clearly enunciated every word. “What a thing to do.”

“What?” Janeway asked innocently.

“I believe I used the appropriate phrase. I was expressing astonishment and distaste at your use of underhanded tactics in order to defeat me.” Seven glared at the captain some more.  
  
“I know what the phrase means, Seven, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Janeway extended a hand.

Pointedly ignoring it, Seven rose to her feet unaided. “Your elbow.” Her jaw worked as she clenched her teeth.

“My elbow?” Janeway looked surprised. “Surely you don’t think I elbowed you on purpose?”

Seven swallowed her mouthful of water and cast a scornful gaze at the captain. “Are you suggesting that your elbow connected with my ribs by accident?”

“Yes, I am!”

“Where did you intend it to land then? My abdomen, perhaps? My head?” Seven asked, brushing wayward blonde strands from her face.

“Seven, I have no idea what’s wrong with you,” the captain exclaimed. “I did not elbow you on purpose in order to win the game, and I’m surprised and - ” she struggled to find an appropriate word, “- _appalled_ that you would even think that!” Irritated, she wiped away the sweat on her chest, fumbling with the towel and dropping it. She heard Seven call for an exit, and as she stood back up, towel in hand, she realised that Seven was almost over to the door.

“God, Seven, I did apologise!” she yelled after her.

“You did _not_.” Seven stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“Of course I did.”

“ _I_ have an eidetic memory. I believe that my recollection of the events is significantly more accurate than yours,” Seven spat.

Janeway sighed heavily. “Alright then, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I hadn’t said it. Is that better? Are you happy now?”

“No, I am _not_ happy now!” Seven said, her voice rising as she whipped around to face her. “Why is it that you cannot accept defeat? Can you not allow someone else to be superior just once?”

Janeway, confused and disconcerted, backed clumsily away from the steadily approaching woman. The bare walls of the holodeck made a fitting backdrop for an irate ex-Borg drone. The surrounding grey metal seemed to make the Seven’s implants appear harsher and more noticeable. Then Janeway saw the clear blue fury that was Seven’s eyes. She obviously had to fix this but how could she if she didn’t understand what she’d done wrong?

Or at least, she hoped she didn’t understand.

“I... Seven, what do you want, for me to let you win? To throw the match?”

“This is not about the match!” Seven tossed her water bottle aside with considerable force, balling her fists. She began to pace agitatedly.

Janeway glared. If this irrationality was a new facet of Seven’s developing personality, she didn’t like it one bit.

“Then what is the problem?” Janeway heard herself almost growling the words out but she ignored that and planted her hands on her hips with visible frustration.

Seven stopped her pacing and faced the captain, glowering right back at her.

“The problem is your requirement for control. This is about your need to be superior, to always be the captain.” The more she spoke, the louder and more caustic Seven became. “It is about you setting every rule and winning everything; every disagreement! You even control which decisions I am permitted to make - I can select our meals, but I cannot even choose which side of the bed I sleep on!”

Janeway was amazed – and alarmed. This appeared to be worse than she thought. Where had this come from? She reached out to touch Seven’s arm in an effort to placate her.

“Seven, you’re being unreasonable...”

“I am not being unreasonable,” retorted Seven, stepping back and out of the captain’s reach. “My research indicates it is not unreasonable to expect shared responsibility and control within an intimate relationship. Often they are called partnerships, Kathryn, which suggests a degree of equality. _We_ do not have a partnership.” Seven inhaled sharply.

Janeway, her demeanour quickly matching Seven’s, became argumentative. “I know what this is really about,” she said, nodding slightly, her lips thinning as they pressed tightly together. “I know you don’t like it, but I thought we had agreed that we needed to be discreet, I thought you understood why...”

Seven interrupted Janeway again. “I understand your need for discretion perfectly. I do not agree that it is necessary; however I am willing to acquiesce to your desires in this matter. That is not the issue.”

Janeway snapped.

“Then what the hell is the issue? My domineering nature? My inability to let you be the boss? My need to be the always be the captain, didn’t you say? Well, this is me, Seven, this is how it is. I am the captain of a starship thousands of light years away from home and I have a responsibility to keep these people safe. If I have to be the captain twenty-four hours a day in order to do that, then so be it!” This time it was Janeway who stormed away. She stomped over to the bench and grabbed her water bottle, taking a long swig.

Seven followed, and continued her tirade. “You do not need to be captain twenty-four hours a day in order to keep Voyager’s crew unharmed. When you are alone with me you can set your responsibilities aside and relax. I can assist you. Psychology dictiates that...” Seeing Janeway’s eyes narrow, her face hardening like concrete, Seven stopped.

With a low, dangerous tone to her voice, Janeway spoke. “I don’t give a damn what psychology dictates. This is how I am. If you can’t handle it, then you might as well leave right now.”

Confused, Seven looked at her partner. “Leave?” she asked.

“Leave,” repeated Janeway. “Leave the holodeck, leave this discussion, and leave my life. I don’t have time for someone who’s out to reform me.”

“But Kathryn...” This was not the result she had anticipated at all. This entire conversation was rapidly spiralling out of Seven’s control. She hurried to catch up as the captain strode rapidly toward the exit.

“You just let me know when you’ve made up your mind, Seven.” The door opened. Janeway stepped forward.

“Kathryn.”

Stopping and turning, Janeway placed her hand on the door frame. Seven was only a few paces away, still inside the holodeck. She glanced meaningfully towards the hallway, crewmembers passing by, and then looked back at the tall woman standing before her.

“This discussion is over.”  
______________________________________________

Kathryn Janeway slumped over the bathroom vanity, her locked elbows bracing her, the heels of her hands taking most of her weight. She looked herself despondently in the eye via the mirror above the sink.

“Fuck.”

She took in her down-turned mouth, tired eyes and sweaty, tousled hair. She had never felt so old.

“Fuck.” She said it a little more forcefully this time, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

She looked down at her fingers, curled around the edges of the bench, and squeezed until her knuckles were white. A single tear fell into the basin. She let out a ragged sigh.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”


	2. Chapter 2

_This_ , thought Seven of Nine, _is counter-productive_. She moved quickly down the corridor towards the turbolift, her booted heels keeping a steady beat against the deck. _It began when I lost my temper and shouted at Kathryn, which is not conducive to constructive conversation, and has continued with my inability to approach her. However,_ she conceded, _Kathryn has not been making approach simple. Perhaps she is punishing me._ Seven frowned, the lights flickering behind her as the turbolift made its way toward Holodeck Two. _No_ , she decided. _She is angry, and afraid._

It had been three days since Seven had last visited the holodeck, and three days since she had last spoken to her captain in anything but an official sense. It seemed that Janeway was going out of her way to avoid her, something which did not impress Seven. The turbolift doors opened and she stepped into the hall. Her lips pursed a little as her lower jaw pushed forward stubbornly.

_This time_ , she thought, _she will not be able to avoid me. We will communicate and we will improve this situation._ Ignoring the thought that maybe the situation couldn’t be improved, she reached the holodeck doors and entered.

Janeway, busy contemplating just where she should use her chisel next in order to form the perfect replica of the human heart, looked up sharply as the doors slid open. Her graceful descent from the high stool she was perched upon was a disaster.

Seven hurried forward to help her up.

“I’m fine,” Janeway muttered, standing up on her own, with significantly more poise than she had had when falling. Without so much as looking at Seven, she walked to the other side of the long wooden workbench, effectively positioning a barrier between them. Bright Italian sunshine spilled over them both. Janeway folded her arms.

“Are you here to apologise?” she asked. Seven looked puzzled.

“Apologise?”

“Yes,” Janeway said. “For our ‘disagreement’.” Damn, she was nervous. She shifted her weight to one foot and tried to regulate her breathing. She hoped Seven wouldn’t notice how fast her heart was beating, but with all of her Borg enhanced senses, she probably would. Maybe if she tapped her foot the exertion would explain the increased pulse.

On second thought, maybe not.

“Our disagreement is the reason I am here,” Seven said, eyebrows raised, “but I am not here to apologise for something which isn’t my fault.”

_Just keep breathing, Katie._

“I came because I wanted to speak with you about what we said, and until now I have been unable to. You have been avoiding me.” Seven took another step towards the workbench.

Janeway crossed and uncrossed her arms and then picked up the chisel and a small hammer. “I’ve been busy,” she said.

“With what?” Seven asked acerbically. “A holographic reproduction of a heart?”

“With ship’s business, Seven,” she responded tightly. “I’m the captain, remember? The studio is my time off.” Janeway knocked a flake of the soft stone away from the left ventricle, eyes downcast.

“That is a lie,” said Seven decisively. “You’ve been purposefully evading my attempts at conversation. It is an inefficient method of conflict resolution.”

“Maybe I don’t want to hear what you have to say.”

“You need to hear it.” Seven placed her palms on the dusty work surface.

If Janeway noticed her increased proximity, then she gave no outward indication. She could, however, feel her abdominal muscles tensing.

“There are two things you might want to say to me. That you can’t be with me, or that you’re sorry and you’re willing to accept things the way they are. If it is the latter, well, you have my undivided attention. If it’s the former,” - she chiselled another piece away - “then we have nothing more to say to one another.” Janeway still refused to look at Seven, her eyes on the heart in front of her. She was glad she’d deactivated the Maestro today. She didn’t really want an audience for this conversation, even if it was only a holographic one.

“You are doing it again!” Seven leaned forward. “You are determining which choices I can make. Relationships are about compromise, Kathryn. You once told me that.” Seven straightened up. “It seems, however, that it actually means compromise for everyone but you. I don’t want to end our relationship, but I cannot continue to exist this way!”

Janeway swallowed, her throat abnormally dry. She took a long breath, ignoring her shaking hands. “Tough decision then, Seven. I told you, that’s the way it is.”

“Kathryn...” Seven struggled to control her inexperienced emotions. She felt as if she were drowning in them, an unpleasant sensation. She didn’t understand this obstinacy! The level of hostility she felt radiating from Kathryn was also unexpected. What was wrong with her?

“If you have nothing new to add, I would like get back to my sculpting.” Janeway, outwardly calm, chipped away at another part of the ventricle.

Seven’s teeth clenched tightly. She had tried to be patient, tried to understand, but she couldn’t react rationally anymore and her feelings overwhelmed her.

“Damn your sculpting!” Seven grabbed the stone heart from its stand and hurled it at the wall. It crumbled from the force of the impact, leaving a fist-sized dent in the plaster.

Janeway looked at the rubble on the floor, and then at Seven, shocked at her uncharacteristic outburst.

“You broke my heart,” the captain whispered.

Seven looked at her, miserably. “No,” she husked. “It is you who has broken mine.”

After Seven had left, Janeway walked, as though in a dream, over to the crumbled remnants of her heart. She ran sensitive fingertips over the depression it had made upon impact, before, like her heart, she slid to the floor in pieces.


	3. Chapter 3

Captain Janeway, commander in chief of the _U.S.S. Voyager_ , sat at the helm of the _Delta Flyer_ , scowling like a recently rebuked child. Remembering where she was, she slammed down her command mask and forced herself to sit a little straighter. There was no way she was going to let Seven of Nine see how straining it was to be in such close quarters with her. The fact that B’Elanna and Tuvok were also there to observe her discontent, was just another reason why her back was already aching, and why she had an increasingly heavy throbbing present in her temples. If she didn’t get out of here and get some coffee soon, then she was sure she was going to go mad.

She looked at the chronometer. To her dismay, Janeway realised that there were still at least twenty minutes until they reached the planet, and then another day after that until they returned to _Voyager_ and the coffee machine that Seven had presented her with several months ago. She hadn’t been able to give it up, despite the ache she felt whenever she used it. Feeling her throat constricting, Janeway futilely attempted to shove all thoughts of Seven from her mind, and concentrate on piloting the _Flyer_.

Seven, fingers moving smoothly over the operations console, glanced at the captain from the corner of her eye. It was her right eye, without the same level of acuity she appreciated from her ocular implant on the left, but she wasn’t planning on turning around to face the helm just so she could have an enhanced look at Kathryn. Seven repressed the urge to squeeze the bridge of her nose. She didn’t have a headache – it was merely a gesture that she had unconsciously appropriated from her _ex_ -partner. She refused to allow it to surface.

She hadn’t asked to come on this mission. In fact, she was certain that the captain had deliberately not requested her presence, but once B’Elanna had made the extremely logical suggestion, and Tuvok had supported her request, there had been no way to circumvent it. Although unwilling to rely on intuition, she could not help having the feeling that their requests had not been entirely professionally based. She was sure that B’Elanna would have been capable of ascertaining the functionality of a Borg transwarp coil – they had encountered quite a few of them. She was aware that most of the crew had noticed the strained relations between herself and the captain. Perhaps they thought they were doing them a favour.

Whatever the reason, this mission had meant that she and Kathryn had been forced to spend more time in each other’s company than they had for several weeks. It did not seem to be unduly affecting the captain, however. _She looks completely indifferent to this situation. It is just another away mission to he_ r, Seven thought. Stifling a sigh, she minutely adjusted her already ramrod straight posture. She squared her jaw, looked back at the console, and began her mantra anew. _I will adapt_.

A series of bleeps from Tuvok’s station interrupted Seven’s musings. Janeway perked up.

“Report.”

Tuvok responded. “Sensors detect a series of ionic trails consistent with a class two ion storm. The wave front is approximately six million kilometres away… not far from the location of the abandoned transwarp coil.” He scanned his console. “It is within our projected flight path.” Tuvok’s voice was as even as ever.

Janeway settled back into her chair. “The shuttle can withstand a wave front of that level. I’d rather not delay things by travelling around it. Maintaining current course and heading.”

Seven’s eyes flicked over the information before her. “Captain, these ionic trails are also consistent with the warp signature of the ships designed by Species 583 – a territorial race, native to nearby regions. It is possible that they are the source of the readings,” she remarked impassively.

Janeway’s jaw tightened and she looked over at her. “Were they ever assimilated?” she asked bluntly.

Seven glanced up quickly but her expression remained impassive. “No. Their weapons and propulsion systems were primitive, and their evolution stunted. The collective found them unworthy of assimilation at that time.”

“Are we within their territory?”

“We are not,” said Seven.

“Then we’ll continue on our current trajectory. It’s more likely to be an ion storm.” The captain looked back at her console.

“Captain, I would not recommend – ”

“I don’t need your recommendations, Seven.”

Seven’s grasp tightened on the arm of her chair. She hadn’t even noticed her hand gripping it.

“It has been 284 years since the Borg last encountered the species. Based on their rate of evolution, it is likely that they are now slightly more technologically advanced. It would be prudent to approach with caution, or perhaps to return with _Voyager_.” Seemingly effortlessly, Seven recounted this information as if reading from a particularly dry text. She felt like she was choking.

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion.” The captain’s voice bit sharply into the quiet. She was sure that she had concerned herself with Seven’s opinion quite enough over the last few weeks, and she had no intention of letting herself be unduly affected by it now.

“Nevertheless, it was my duty to give it.”

“And it is my position as _captain_ to make the final decisions. I do not wish to extend this ‘outing’ any longer than necessary. This is not Species… five-eight-whoever- they-are’s territory, and the more likely scenario is that this is a simple, lower-class ion storm.” Janeway said determinedly.

B’Elanna couldn’t help it. She had to offer her take on the situation. “Actually Captain, since we hadn’t detected any trace of a storm front before this…”

“Thank you Lieutenant, but this discussion is finished. As I’ve already said, we _will_ continue on our present course.”

B’Elanna decided not to escalate the issue with the captain in such a cantankerous mood – and reacting to everything like a wounded Targ. “Aye, Captain,” she said grumpily.

Tuvok remained prudently silent.

Janeway’s hands ran lightly over the helm, and then she reached behind her to withdraw her safety harness. “In a vessel this size, a class two ion storm could cause some turbulence. I suggest you strap yourselves in.” Janeway yanked hard on the webbing over her shoulder, struggling with the buckle before finally fastening it tightly, and set about ignoring the irritated looks she was being given by more than one member of the away team.


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn’t until they’d come within considerably less than a million kilometres, quite close to the potential ion storm, that Tuvok determined what the sensors were telling him. He knew that with the captain’s present disposition, she would be unlikely to listen to speculation, so he had waited until he had hard facts. Now, he was sure.  
“Captain, it appears that Seven of Nine may have been correct. Three starships of unknown origin are approximately 800 000 kilometres away, orbiting the sixth planet of this system.”

Janeway twisted in her seat, her harness restricting her movements. She craned her neck in order to see Tuvok.

“Are you certain?” Immediately after she’d said it, Janeway knew it was an unnecessary question. Tuvok would never say anything with such conviction, unless he was absolutely sure.

He raised an eyebrow.

Janeway turned back to the helm. “Never mind.” She could see Seven’s fingers moved rapidly over the board in front of her. Before the captain could even open her mouth, Seven spoke.

“Captain, the warp signature matches that of Species 583, although it is more advanced than before. Their weapons systems are...”

Tuvok cut Seven off abruptly. “I believe they have detected our presence. All three ships are moving towards us at warp two.”

“Warp two?” asked B’Elanna.

Seven raised an eyebrow at her, lifting her ocular implant. “As I said earlier, their propulsion system is limited. We can retreat easily, but we must do so now, before they fire upon us.” Seven directed her gaze evenly down to her console. “As with most aggressive species’, it seems that their weaponry has developed disproportionately to their other systems. The _Delta Flyer_ would not be victorious in a confrontation.” Seven glanced to her right and shot the captain a look.

Janeway gave her one back, and then turned to the helm. “Tuvok,” she ordered, “ready phaser banks, just in case. We’re getting out of… ungh!” If it hadn’t been for her harness, the captain’s head would have impacted sharply with the corner of her station. As it was, she felt the chest straps dig painfully into her body, bruising her flesh.

“Report!”

Tuvok spoke. “An object similar to a long range torpedo has impacted with our port nacelle. The shuttle is at all stop and shields are down to 60 per cent. The nacelle has sustained some damage, however we can still outrun our pursuers if we reroute power to the engines.”

“The nacelle will not withstand extended use and Species 583 are notoriously persistent. They will not give up easily. If we attempt to outrun them, we will fail.” Seven frowned. “There is one other option, however.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re going to enlighten us,” Janeway growled.

Seven continued as if she had not spoken. “Species 583’s ships are designed for space travel only. They are not able to manoeuvre in atmospheric conditions. If we are able to enter the atmosphere of a planet, they should be unable to follow us.”

“To get to the closest planet though… that means we’ll have to pass right by them.” B’Elanna said, her cranial ridges masking the furrowing of her brow.

“Yes,” said Seven. “But at warp six it should be possible to do so without acquiring further damage.” The shuttle lurched again.

“Shields are down to 38 per cent, inertial dampeners are operating at half capacity,” Tuvok reported.

Janeway shook the hair from her face and tucked a rusty red lock behind her ear. “With the ship in this condition we may not make it through entry,” she said.

Seven eyes were steady as they held Janeway’s. “If we remain here, or choose to flee, we will not ‘make it’ at all. I suggest releasing a distress beacon and… ‘taking our chances’.”

The captain squared her shoulders. “Let’s do it,” she said, and the ship jumped to warp.


	5. Chapter 5

Janeway’s eyes blinked open, and then immediately shut again as the light, glinting off the snow, glared into them. It felt as if various different sized needles were stabbing her pupils, and a sledgehammer was swinging back and forth inside her skull. She turned her head away from the sun and groaned softly.  
“Captain?” said a voice.

Janeway opened her eyes into slits. “B’Elanna?” she rasped. “What... where…”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Janeway thought back. She remembered the flight past the attacking ships; the fiery entry into the planet’s upper biosphere; the loss of helm control; the screaming plummet toward the planet’s surface; that one last look at Seven before the impending impact…

“We crashed, onto a… hillside?” she replied uncertainly, looking blearily up into the troubled brown eyes of her chief engineer.

“That’s right,” said B’Elanna. “We slid down and then we hit an outcropping, and the _Flyer_ flipped. We ended up coming down that ridge,” - B’Elanna pointed to a steep escarpment on the other side of the canyon – “and then we skidded over those rocks and slammed into the side of the mountain here. We’ve lost about half of the shuttle back there and what was left got crushed.” She looked down at the captain, whose eyes were now closed. “I think the front viewport is the only thing left intact,” B’Elanna continued, inspecting the captain’s face now that she could do unobserved. She was a little concerned about her condition. “When I came to, I was on top of both you and Tuvok. Kahless only knows how we got out of our harnesses.”

Opening her eyes, Janeway looked over at the shuttle, heart racing. “Where _is_ Tuvok?” she asked.

“Top of that ledge there,” said B’Elanna, looking up and pointing again.

Janeway sat up, swaying slightly as she tried to regain her equilibrium. “And Seven? What about Seven?” She scanned the area, her movements jerky, while she began unconsciously rubbing her upper arms in an effort to get warm.

“She’s unconscious. Her leg’s caught under something, where the hull compacted. We can’t get her out of the shuttle.”

Janeway, still seated on the icy ground, and steadier now, spun to face B’Elanna. “She’s still in there?” she asked, in disbelief. “What… why… we have to get her out!” The captain tried to stand up but the snow and ice underfoot made it next to impossible and she slipped, the heels of her hands sliding across the ice a bit as she used them to break her fall. Ignoring the burning sensation in her palms, she began to scramble over to the shuttle on all fours.

B’Elanna started after her, struggling to catch up. “Captain! Captain Janeway!”

Janeway made it to the _Flyer_ and began using the hull as handhold, steadying herself as she moved forward hurriedly on her knees. She was panting from the exertion. B’Elanna plopped down beside her as the captain anxiously peered through the gash in the side of the vessel.

“We have to get her out, B’Elanna,” Janeway said frantically. “We have to get her out!”

B’Elanna put a reassuring – and restraining – hand on Janeway’s shoulder. “Captain, we’ve already tried everything. Voyager will be here soon, we’ll just have to wait for them.” She was definitely worried now. The captain seemed panicky.

Janeway turned her anxious gaze to the other woman. “No, B’Elanna, you don’t understand, she can’t stay in there, she… something could happen, she could die in there, you don’t…” Janeway was breathing hard and her eyes were darting wildly about, as if she was looking for something that she could use to pry open the shuttle, or to peel back the hull like she was opening a can of sardines.

“It’s ok, we checked her over. Tuvok still has his tricorder on him. Seven is fine, just unconscious – a little bump on the head,” B’Elanna said soothingly. “Don’t worry Captain, she’ll be alright.”

Janeway was desperately trying to regain some semblance of control, but she was struggling. “She’ll be alright? She’s... she’s not going to…”

“Seven will be challenging you to a game of velocity in no time.” B’Elanna smiled.

Janeway took a ragged, somewhat relieved breath and covered her face with her hands. B’Elanna didn’t see the salty moisture wetting the captain’s palms, and if she did see the slight shaking of the narrow shoulders, now resting back against the hull plating, she pretended not to notice.

“I want to stay here with her while we wait,” came the muffled voice.

“Of course,” said B’Elanna, as she patted Janeway’s knee awkwardly. “Of course.”


	6. Chapter 6

A generous quantity of amber liquid swirled around the inner surface of the glass, filling it quickly. The tumbler tilted precariously from the force of the flow and a pale, slender and rather unsteady hand reached out to stop it from falling and soaking the carpet. Without bothering to put down the bottle, Janeway wrapped her hand around the glass and lifted it, taking a clumsy gulp as she closed her eyes, shutting out the view of her living quarters. That she didn’t even flinch as the whiskey hit the back of her throat was a measure of her inebriation. She did notice a droplet she’d missed, trickling down her chin, and she swiped it gracelessly away with the back of her thumb. Draining the glass, she opened her eyes and placed it, almost too carefully, back on the low table in front of her. As she was fumbling for the bottle, which had slipped from her fingers to the floor while she drank, she heard the door chime.

Janeway started and the bottle tipped, whiskey sloshing out onto the deck. A string of expletives spewed from her lips. The door chimed again. Janeway glowered at it, fuming. She’d been more than explicit in her instructions to Chakotay, and that someone was daring to disturb her now just plain pissed her off.

God, there was that damned chime again!

It seemed that the person at the door had not only disturbed her, but they were persistent, too. The captain picked up the bottle and held it upended it over her glass for a few seconds before she realised it was empty. She slammed it down and sat back in the chair, crossing her arms stubbornly and glaring into the dark. She was damned if she was going to allow them entrance. Let them press that button all they wanted.

In some far off part of her foggy brain, the captain knew she was being idiotic. She even realised that the idiocy was a result of her intoxication, but she had no time to dwell on it, because the next thing she knew, Seven of Nine was striding though her door. Janeway twisted around and nearly slid off the chair, grabbing hold of the padded arm at the last minute.

“Wha… what’re you doin’ ‘ere?” the captain slurred. “Wha’ d’ya want?”

Seven’s eyes swept over her, her scotopic vision activating, enabling her to see in the dark. She noted the empty glass and whiskey bottle; the stains on the floor and on the front of Janeway’s t-shirt. The captain’s eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. Seven warily inhaled through her nose, which then wrinkled delicately at the offensive odour.

“Lights, full,” Seven ordered.

“Argh… ow…” Janeway groaned and leaned forward, elbows resting on her thighs, wrists crossed between her knees, her hands dangling. Resting her head on her forearms, she closed her eyes, returning the world to darkness. She heard Seven requesting… _something_ from the replicator and then the light assaulted her again as Seven eased her head back and to the side. There was a pressure against her neck, a slight hiss, and then suddenly she was stone cold sober, with a truly astounding headache. Janeway groaned again.

Seven cleared the evidence of the captain’s drinking binge away while Janeway sagged into the cushioned back of her chair and fought down the bile. When a beautiful scent wafted over her, filtering into her nostrils, Janeway’s eyes opened. Seven was there before her again; a gorgeous, steaming cup of coffee in her hand.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice still raw from the whiskey. She blew lightly across the surface and took a sip. Janeway sighed in relief.

“God, that’s good… I swear I feel better already,” she said.

“It is undoubtedly a placebo effect,” Seven stated dryly. “Although perhaps the caffeine does negate the depressive properties of the alcohol, however the hypospray…”

“Seven,” interrupted the captain seriously. “Please. I’m not that sober yet.” She took another sip of the coffee before she remembered that she was supposed to be avoiding Seven. She hated the way that anti-intoxicants always made her feel disoriented.

“While I’m _eternally_ grateful for the cup of coffee, I’m assuming there’s another reason for you to override my access codes and essentially break into my quarters?”

Janeway tried to inject a little ice - or at least some sarcasm - into her voice. When Seven sat down on the couch, albeit rather stiffly, she decided that she hadn’t succeeded particularly well.

“The Doctor informed me that he was worried about you. He mentioned that you remained with me in sickbay until immediately before he woke me, but then you insisted that he wait until you had returned to your quarters before he actually did so.” Seven paused and looked carefully at the captain, who avoided returning her gaze, before continuing. “B’Elanna also expressed concern. She suggested that you were upset after regaining consciousness and discovering that I was trapped within the _Delta Flyer_ ; that you panicked. This is unlike you.” Seven took a slow breath, her eyes searching Janeway’s face. Two fine lines appeared between her brows. “What is wrong?”

“Huh.” The captain made a derisive sound, and shook her head. “I’ve got the whole ship talking about me now, have I?”

Seven leaned forward. “Captain…” she trailed off. “Kathryn…”

“Nothing is wrong, Seven. I was concerned for a crewmember who was injured on an away mission of which I was in command. That’s why I sat with you in sickbay. As for my reactions back on the planet… well… we’d just been in a major accident!” Janeway stumbled over her words a little. “I… I was in shock. Anyway, I calmed down quickly, did B’Elanna tell you that?” she asked defensively.

“She told me that you refused to leave me. She said that you were becoming irrational, almost hysterical...”

“Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Janeway interjected.

“She said you cried.”

Janeway flicked a quick glance at Seven. She was sitting too close to her, she needed some space. She needed to breathe. Janeway shuffled back into her chair, as far as she could go.

“I told you Seven, I was in shock.”

“I have seen you experience many emotions, in many different situations, Kathryn, but I have never seen you cry. Not even here in your quarters. I do not believe that this was mere shock.” She shuffled awkwardly forward, closer to Janeway.

Too close. The captain put down her metallic mug and stood abruptly. She walked over to the viewport and stopped, ostensibly gazing into space. With her back to Seven though, she closed her eyes.

“It was shock, Seven.” Her voice was firm. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

“This is obviously an atypical reaction…”

“Seven, I _don’t_ want to talk about it.” Folded her arms tightly, Janeway hunched her shoulders, as if she were cold.

Seven got to her feet and took a few steps towards the viewport. “Kathryn, I know that things have changed between us. I said things that caused you pain, and you said things also… and I know that we haven’t been…” Seven swallowed, hard, and then took a deep breath. When had she started feeling so human? She pressed on. “I have no right to ask you to explain to me, but I… still care about you. I want to help you, Kathryn. I just - ”

“Seven, _please_.” Janeway, her voice almost desperate, shot Seven a look over her shoulder. Her eyes were pleading.

Seven moved towards her. “Kathryn, what is it? What is wrong?”

“I think you should go. Please; just _go_.” The captain braced her hands on the wide ledge beneath the viewport and looked down at her bare toes.

Seven put her hands on Janeway’s shoulders, her palms sliding comfortingly over her upper arms. Janeway jerked, her body stiffening.

Feeling the way Janeway trembled, Seven whispered, “Kathryn, please tell me what’s wrong.”

“No.”

“Kathryn…” Seven’s voice was soft; coaxing.

“I can’t…” Janeway choked out.

“You can.”

Janeway crossed her arms and held herself, tightly. “No… I can’t… I can’t tell you. I can’t tell anyone,” she said, her voice quavering.

“What is it? What can’t you tell anyone?” Seven gently turned Janeway around. She placed her forefinger underneath the captain’s chin and tilted her face upward so she could see her. Janeway’s eyes were anguished.

“Kathryn?”

Shutting her eyes tightly, Janeway shook her head, trying to distance herself from the situation. She could feel herself crumbling inside. “No…”

“This is not about the accident yesterday, is it? This is not about me. Something has happened to you…” Seven frowned.

“Nobody knows…” Janeway whispered.

“Nobody knows what?”

“Nobody knows… that it was all my fault.”

“That what was your fault?” Seven asked.

“Daddy,” she said. “And Justin… they died because of me.”


	7. Chapter 7

Sitting next to Janeway on the couch, Seven rubbed the middle of her back in small concentric circles. It was a gesture that was alien to her, but it was something she remembered Kathryn doing for her some time ago, and it had been comforting. Tilting her head a bit so that she could see the captain properly, she noticed that Kathryn appeared even smaller than usual; her shoulders narrower, her eyes staring ahead, unseeing. She’d been like that for several minutes now, as if sharing that one small piece of information had sapped her of all of her energy; had burned out the synapses in her brain. Seven had guided her slowly over to the couch and helped her to sit, and then she had waited, and thought.

Although the logs were classified, Seven knew the bare details of the accident in which Kathryn’s father and fiancé had been killed. Their deaths had been the result of a crash onto a frozen planet – Tau Ceti Prime – and Kathryn, also present, had been the only, albeit badly-injured, survivor. She also knew, from her previous forays into the subject, that it was not a topic for discussion. As such, Seven had made a little more effort than she might otherwise have done in exploring the files, discovering that, although seriously hurt, Kathryn had almost succeeded in saving Justin and the admiral, constructing a makeshift transporter. There had, however, only been enough energy to lock onto one person. Her valiant attempts to boost the confinement beam had taken too long, and both of the men had drowned. As Seven moved her hand up to stroke the rich auburn hair, she mourned for Kathryn’s loss, and yet quietly marvelled at her bravery and ingenuity and sheer stubborn determination.

Leaning forward and kissing her on the forehead tenderly, Seven moved her hands to Janeway’s lap, covering the cold, motionless fingers that were already there.

“Kathryn?” she whispered, squeezing those fingers gently. “Kathryn?”

Janeway inhaled deeply, slowly turning her face towards Seven. Her eyes were dry, but the sheer agony within them made Seven ache. Reaching out, she enfolded the captain in her arms, tucking the smaller woman’s head beneath her chin. Seven pressed her nose into her hair for a moment, and then turned her face to the side, her right cheek resting on the top of Janeway’s head. After a while, she spoke.

“You can tell me, Kathryn. No matter what it is.” Seven felt Janeway’s breath against her neck, her respiration increasing.

“I haven’t told anyone,” she husked. “No-one at all; not Mom, not Phoebe… not the damned nosy psychologists they sent me to see at Starfleet Medical. Nobody knows the truth.”

“I will not break your confidence, Kathryn, and I promise I will not judge you.” Seven paused. “You did not judge me.”

Janeway pulled away a little and looked up at her. Her throat worked, as if she was trying to speak, but no sound came out. Seven pulled her back towards her again, and Janeway clung to her tightly, burying her face in Seven’s neck. She took a deep breath.

“Do you know how my father died?” she asked quietly.

Seven closed her eyes, hoping Janeway wouldn’t be angry at her for prying, but not wanting to lie. “I do,” she said.

Janeway seemed unsurprised. “What do you know?”

“The technical details about the crash, your injuries, what you did… when you tried to save them.” Seven felt Janeway simultaneously cringe and tighten her arms around her. A strange, hollow feeling erupted in the pit of her stomach – regret perhaps. She wondered, was it regret for her discoveries, or regret that Janeway had had to live the events before she could find out about them?

Janeway’s whisper broke into her thoughts. “Those logs were classified. How did you…? No, wait,” she said, shaking her head derisively. “Don’t tell me. You were Borg.”

A metal encased eyebrow rose slightly. “I _am_ Borg.”

Seven had hoped, although not really expected, that this attempt at humour might help to break the sombre mood a bit. She certainly had not anticipated Janeway’s bitter reply.

“You’re not. But maybe Borg is better.”

“Kathryn?” asked Seven, perplexed and concerned.

A heavy sigh escaped the captain’s lips. “Borg don’t have feelings, do they Seven? Borg don’t make mistakes; they’re perfect. Unlike humans.” She paused, and then continued, her voice rough around the edges. “Unlike me.”

Seven looked at her, penetratingly. “This involves the crash on Tau Ceti Prime, correct?”

Janeway just nodded, looking down at her knees.

“Kathryn,” Seven said softly, using her forefinger to tip Janeway’s face up towards her own. ‘Tell me.”

“You said you know what happened.”

“Yes,” said Seven, succinctly.

Janeway tightened her lips in an attempt to halt their trembling. She was unsuccessful.

“Kathryn?”

Janeway gazed at her for a while. Then, she spoke. “You don’t know why we crashed.”

Seven coked her head to the side, remembering. “The logs said it was wind-shear…”

“It was my fault.”

“Your fault?” Seven felt stupid, repeating herself – it was inefficient, but she just didn’t know what to say.

Janeway looked stricken, as if she were still deciding whether to speak. She looked away for a moment, and when her gaze returned, her eyes were cold, as if she had hidden her warm, personable self away somewhere in order to say what she had to. Somewhere deep inside the blue-grey eyes though, Seven was sure she could see fear, and remorse – and guilt.

Slowly, Janeway began to talk.

“I hadn’t seen either of them for months before it happened. Then that day… Daddy was supposed to go alone, but I convinced him let Justin and I come. I… I thought we could spend some more time together.”

Janeway made a small sound in her throat, which she fought down before she spoke again. “We… we were having a great time, it was like a joy ride, we all had a go at the helm… when Justin was piloting, I was… telling some funny story about ballet… I did ballet as a child, did you know that?”

Seven nodded silently.

“I wasn’t very good.” Her voice ground to a halt, the huskiness forcing her to quietly clear her throat. She didn’t look at Seven, but she held her a little tighter.

A warm hand smoothed down Janeway’s back and Seven kissed the top of her head.

“I was re-enacting this disastrous concert and they were looking at me and laughing…” Janeway trailed off, looking away blankly. “Justin wasn’t concentrating on the ship… something happened, and then… and then… the next thing I knew we were crashing into the snow and I knocked my head. When I came to I wasn’t in the _Terra Nova_ anymore, not all of it, there were just bits and pieces around me. But I could see Daddy… and Justin…” Janeway broke off with a choking sob. Seven held her close, her shoulders shaking.

“You don’t have to continue, Kathryn…”

“No, I do… if I stop then I won’t be able to say it again, and I… I want to tell you. I need to.”

Seven closed her eyes and nodded her head. “Very well, if you think you are alright.”

Janeway made a noise that was some kind of cross between laughter and tears.

“Kathryn?”

“I’m ok,” she managed. “I… it just… I tried so hard to get them out! They… they were stuck inside the cockpit… and I could see them, but they were sinking… I took too long… Oh God…” Janeway wailed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” She broke down completely then, with big, gulping sobs, clinging to Seven so tightly that if it hadn’t been for her Borg physiology, she would have had a series of small bruises running down her upper arm.

“It was all my fault…”

Seven just held her, rocking slightly, instinctively, until the sobs calmed into moist, jerky hiccoughs. “The accident was not your fault, Kathryn. You were badly injured and in terrible conditions; your efforts were more than adequate. Your actions were close to perfection. I cannot comprehend why you think that it was ‘your fault’.”

Janeway got to her feet, and turned away, running her fingers through her hair and roughly wiping at the tears on her cheeks. “God, Seven, haven’t you been listening? If it hadn’t been for me, Justin would never have been on that flight! It would have been Daddy at the helm, without me there to distract him.”

She spun back to face Seven, her eyes blazing with self-directed anger – and pain. “ _I_ convinced Daddy it was a good idea to take us with him, _I_ convinced him to let us all try flying the _Terra Nova_ , and _I_ was distracting them with ridiculous anecdotes about... about _ballet_ , for God’s sake, while they should have been concentrating!”

“No, Kathryn – ”

Janeway, so caught up in her anger and despair, ploughed on as if she hadn’t heard Seven. Perhaps she hadn’t. “It was just a prototype, we should have been more careful. But because of my selfishness, and my thoughtlessness and my _stupidity_ , I turned it into a pleasure cruise instead of a serious assignment and we had an accident. And I paid for it, God, did I pay for it.” Inhaling deeply through her nose, she ran her fingers through her hair again, making it stick up. Shaking, she walked towards the viewports lining her quarters, and peered out.

“I swore to myself, it would never happen again.” Janeway’s voice was low.

Seven just listened.

Janeway paced a little and then turned and leaned back on the sill, almost sitting. Crossing her arms, she stared down at the floor and continued to talk. Her voice was calmer now, and without expression, as if she had withdrawn from herself again, and was watching from the outside, merely recounting a series of events.

“At first I didn’t trust myself, I wouldn’t get out of bed. I figured I couldn’t hurt anyone if I stayed in there, but Phoebe dragged me out. Literally.” Janeway snorted sardonically. “She dumped cold water all over me. I nearly choked to death.” She smiled a little at the memory, and then she withdrew again.

“They sent me to see psychologists, which I hated. They were – after a while, I just figured out what they wanted to hear and I said it.” She paused, and sighed. “Then - I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do.”

Seven, still sitting on the edge of the couch, frowned slightly, disliking the defeated, despondent tone of Janeway’s voice, but knowing that she was, as yet, unable to do anything about it.

“It took a while before I could even feel comfortable on a ship again. But I remembered that Daddy had wanted me to try for a command posting and I thought I owed it to him to try. As long as I didn’t get too close to any of the crew, I figured that I could manage without endangering anyone.” Janeway took a ragged breath. “If it got too hard, I thought maybe I could leave Starfleet.”

“Leave?” Seven’s forehead creased even further as she considered this. “I cannot imagine you without your commission. I don’t believe you would be whole without Starfleet. It is who you are.” Seven rose, and walked slowly across to the captain. She stopped at the opposite end of the viewport, a few steps away from her.

Janeway didn’t appear to notice Seven’s movements. She continued staring at the floor as she responded.

“I know that. I was deluding myself, but my mind wasn’t too clear back then. Anyway, it didn’t come to that; I liked it, which surprised me, and I didn’t find it too hard to keep up the command mask, most of the time.” She gritted her teeth for a moment, her lips tightening, and then she relaxed, almost slumping.

“I’ve always been a fairly solitary sort of person anyway, I guess.” Janeway turned roughly forty-five degrees, so she could see Seven, but wasn’t directly facing her. She seemed, for the moment, to be gaining some semblance of her usual self, although she still hadn’t met Seven’s eyes.

Seven sat and also turned; to face the captain. “Is this why you rarely socialise with other members of the crew during your off-duty periods?” she asked.

Janeway shot her a sidelong look. “Aside from you.”

“Aside from myself.”

Janeway sighed. “Yes, that’s why. Even when I do, I’m always aware of a line I can’t cross. I can’t afford to cloud my emotions when I have this kind of responsibility.” She paused, and then continued, hoarsely. “That’s why Mark was good for me. He was happy just having a part of me. And he was never going to be under my command.”

Janeway’s black mood seemed to hover above her like a mutated fog, sometimes lifting, at other times enveloping her. Her jaw tightened as the fog surrounded her again, and she gripped her knees with both hands, firmly. “I really screwed up when I got involved with you though, didn’t I, Seven?”

“I don’t believe you did, Kathryn.” Seven hid her hurt very well. “If you feel this way, however, why did you become involved with me?”

“Because I couldn’t stop myself,” she said quickly, as if it should have been obvious. “I couldn’t help caring about you. I couldn’t hide from you, I couldn’t keep you out.”

She rubbed her chin. “I tried to be a mentor, or just a friend, but after that time when you were gone, when the Borg Queen had you… I knew that it didn’t matter what I called it, what I told myself… I loved you, and I was so caught up in that that I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t think about anything else.”

Seven smiled slightly, and looked down shyly at her hands, folded primly in her lap. “I felt the same way.”

Unconsciously, Janeway lowered her voice. “I know.” She glanced at Seven forlornly. “After you got back to _Voyager_ , I decided that the only way I could control my emotions for you was if I could express them, to a point, and so… well, you know what happened.”

“You seduced me.”

“There wasn’t much seduction required, Seven, you weren’t exactly hesitant.” Janeway gave Seven a crooked smile.

Seven observed it with relief. Kathryn seemed to be calming down. “No,” she said. “I wasn’t.” She held Janeway’s gaze. “It didn’t work, did it?”

“No,” Janeway said, in a strained sort of voice. “It didn’t work. Being with you didn’t make it any easier. I… I still couldn’t stop thinking about you, and having to order you on away missions was making me insane. I mean, I tried to control myself. I tried distancing myself from you, making sure I didn’t get too close to that line… but you realised what I was doing. You left me,” Janeway finished faintly, looking as miserable as she felt.

Seven looked at her miserably, unsure of what to say to make things better.

“Then I really proved that I have no self-control, and that I shouldn’t be responsible for other people’s lives, didn’t I?” Janeway’s fog of self-disgust, depression and self-pity descended upon her again and got up, walking sullenly over to the replicator. She stood in front of it, unsure why she was there. There was nothing that she wanted – nothing the replicator could provide.

Seven’s eyes followed her. She tilted her head to the side and frowned, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“The _Delta Flyer_. I nearly killed us all.”

“I don’t understand how you could construe that as being your fault.”

“I let my emotions get the better of me.” Janeway, still facing the wall, seemed to be talking more to herself now, than she was to Seven. “This is what happens, I either go through life alone, or responsible for no-one but myself. I’ve already tried giving you up, and that didn’t work…”

“Kathryn, stop. Stop.” Seven rose to her feet.

Janeway turned and looked at her, brows raised.

Seven continued. “Explain to me how your emotions ‘got the better of you’. How were your actions related to the attack by Species 583?” Seven was genuinely puzzled. _Where is this idea coming from?_

“I was distracted. Sitting next to you made me distracted, and I couldn’t get you out of my head. It was frustrating me.” Janeway frowned, putting her hands lightly on her hips. “I wanted to be in control again. I felt like you were… were getting the better of me and I couldn’t let that happen. I’m the captain, Seven. I have to be in control.”

“Is that all?”

Janeway was incredulous. “What do you mean, is that all?” She stalked towards the other woman. “I didn’t listen when you told me about Species 583. I didn’t… you know, you were right about what you said, about me always making the decisions and running both of our lives. I just - I didn’t want you to be right about anything else. It was stupid and petty and – ”

Seven interrupted. “It was Human, Kathryn.”

“Starfleet captains have to be more than just Human,” Janeway retorted.

“You are the only person who believes this.”

“No,” said Janeway.

Seven interrupted again. “Yes. Furthermore, your efforts to be ‘more than Human’ are what caused the situation in the first place.”

Janeway stared at her. “I beg your pardon?” she queried, surprised. She looked up at Seven. They were less than an arms length apart now.

“You believe you were at fault due to your inability to control your emotions regarding the dissolution of our relationship. I also had feelings about our lack of involvement.” Seven raised an eyebrow. “It is normal and Human to experience these emotions. Your efforts to conquer them and become ‘more than Human’ caused you to disregard information, simply because I gave it. Is this correct?” Seven recapped bluntly.

“Well, y… yes,” Janeway confirmed, somewhat shaken at the frank explanation.

“The reason you were experiencing these emotions was because we…” Seven paused, searching for the correct term.

“Broke-up,” Janeway provided.

The words hit Seven painfully, but they were the truth. Taking a short breath, Seven said, “Very well; we ‘broke up’. The cause of our ‘break-up’ however, was also due to your desire to be more than Human.” Seven hesitated, unused to giving advice on humanity, but in this case, she felt it was warranted. “Kathryn, you cannot control what you feel. You are not Vulcan, you are Human, and your emotions are a part of you. It is natural,” she said, stepping closer to Janeway, and placing a hand on her shoulder.

Janeway’s face hardened and she stepped back, out of reach. “Don’t psychologise me, Seven,” she said, coldly.

Seven felt a sharp pain in the vicinity of her chest, but she ignored it. “I am not ‘psychologising’ you, I am merely providing an alternate viewpoint; a solution to your problem.”

“Oh really? And what is that?” said Janeway mordantly.

“Accept your emotions. If you had done this originally, we would not have ceased our relationship, and you would not have been experiencing the distraction you felt while aboard the _Delta Flyer_.”

Janeway’s lower jaw pushed forward. “I can’t do that. My emotions affect my command decisions…”

“You have never attempted it, Kathryn.” Seven forced herself to remain calm. “Consider this. Have you ever tried loving me, without holding back? Or have you always been trying to prevent yourself from becoming too close to me?”

Janeway mulled it over in her mind for a minute. She had always separated herself from the rest of the crew, including Seven, and when she had felt herself becoming attracted to her, had brushed it aside until it was too late. After that, every facet of her relationship with Seven had been carefully managed – her friendship and eventually the relationship that she had developed with her – in an attempt to rein in her emotions. Even when she had been ‘involved’ with Seven, she had been restraining herself. Was Seven right? Could the problem be her desire for control over her emotions, rather than the emotions themselves?

“I’ve always been… holding back,” she admitted.

“Then it is reasonable to expect a different result if you do not ‘hold back’.” Seven found it rather ironic that she was suggesting that Kathryn embrace her emotions just as she herself desperately tried to squash a tidal wave of joy that was threatening to swamp her.

“What about what happened on Tau Ceti Prime with…” Janeway faltered.

Seven closed her eyes for a long moment and then, when she was calm, she spoke.

“Kathryn, you are a command trained Starfleet captain now, not a 24 year old ensign on a ship with her father, whom, as the senior officer, should have been in charge of the situation.” She clasped her hands behind her back, and pinned Janeway with a inescapable, piercing stare. “You made an error in judgement. I do not believe that you would make the same mistake again, do you?”

“No,” Janeway whispered, feeling small under Seven’s gaze.

“Then attempting to fully experience your emotions is a sensible, and probably successful solution.”

Janeway looked at Seven. She was standing close to her, looking down with an inscrutable expression on her face. The captain suddenly felt a pang of nerves in her stomach. Taking a shaky breath, she made a choice. She took metaphorical leap into the unknown.

“There’s one condition,” she husked. Seven’s ocular implant shot up. She looked a little worried.

“What is that condition?” Seven asked tentatively.

“That you help me.”

Seven’s lips curved up in a tiny smile and she cupped Janeway’s cheek with her hand. Her metal-tipped thumb swiped away the tear rolling down the captain’s face.

“I will always help you, Kathryn,” she said tenderly.

“And,” Janeway whispered, “do you think… you could love me, again?”

Seven smiled, _really_ smiled, for the first time that both she and Janeway could remember. She suddenly realised that she could understand how the phrase ‘so happy I could cry’ originated. She lifted Janeway’s face towards her with both hands.

“I never stopped.”


	8. Epilogue

Kathryn Janeway sat on the couch in her ready room gazing out of the viewport at the stars, which were distorted by the warp bubble surrounding the ship. She tucked her left leg up under her and took a generous sip of her coffee.

“Mmm…” she hummed in delight. “Damned good.” She bestowed a fond glance on the revamped coffee machine on her desk. Seven had presented her with it just this morning. She’d been very proud of the modifications she’d made. Janeway, on the other hand, was just glad to have the thing back. She’d had enough replicated coffee to last her a lifetime. Of course, Seven would say she’d had enough of any kind of coffee to last her a lifetime. Maybe that was why the coffee machine had broken down in the first place, she mused. _No_ , she thought, grinning. _I don’t drink that much coffee._

_Do I?_

Janeway was dragged from her thoughts by a chime at the door behind her.

“Come,” she said. The doors opened and Commander Chakotay walked in.

“Everything’s ready, Captain. It’s time.”

“Mmph.” Janeway gulped down the remainder of her beverage. She got up and went over to the replicator to recycle the mug and then turned back to face Chakotay.

“Thank you so much for doing this,” she smiled. “You have no idea how much this means to us.”

“Oh, I think I have an inkling,” he replied, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it’s been a whole year.”

Neither could Janeway. An entire year since she’d completely fallen apart, and Seven had been there to pick up the pieces, putting them back together into a happier, stronger, more confident Janeway. A better captain. A better woman.

“It’s flown by,” she said, remembering.

“It has,” said Chakotay. He looked at her. “Captain?”

“Hmm?” she said, jerking out of her reverie and looking up at him.

“Are you alright?”

“Never better.” Janeway beamed. “I have to admit though, I feel a little strange. This is the first holiday I’ve had in…” She laughed. “A _very_ long time.”

Well aware of the captain’s affection for _Voyager_ , Chakotay smirked. “I promise to take good care of the ship, Kathryn.” The captain backhanded his belly lightly.

“Don’t get too cocky,” she warned, shaking her head and chuckling. “Seriously though, Chakotay, if anything happens…”

“I’ll take care of it, unless it’s an absolute emergency.” He looked at her in amusement. “You are only going to the holodeck.”

The captain had the grace to look a little sheepish.

“Go on,” he said. She clapped a hand on his upper arm and squeezed.

“Remember, treat her nice, Commander, or I won’t let you borrow the keys next time.” She ginned and walked through the doorway and around the edge of the bridge to the turbolift.

Tom Paris heard the ready room doors swoosh open. “Have a good time, Captain, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he called cheekily.

Janeway glanced over towards the helm, one eyebrow raised. “I’m sure that won’t be too difficult, Mr Paris,” she replied, as the turbolift doors shut. _Well, with the exception of a few little differences_. She allowed herself a small leer and then she tapped her commbadge.

“Janeway to Seven of Nine.” There was a pause, and then:

“Seven here.”

“Are you ready?”

“I have been ‘ready’ for 4.2 minutes, since the designated time of departure,” said Seven. Janeway could hear the amusement in her voice.

“Well, aren’t you punctual?” Janeway teased.

“Yes,” Seven replied, too expressionlessly.

Janeway laughed. “Are you looking forward to it?”

“Why would I be looking forward to spending an entire three days alone with you in a holographic version of Risa?” Seven teased. “I have no idea what we will do all day.” It seemed that Seven’s burgeoning sense of humour was going through a sarcastic phase.

“Oh, I can think of a few things,” Janeway smirked.

In the captain’s quarters – now their shared quarters – Seven’s eyes twinkled. “So can I,” she said. She turned as the doors opened and Janeway walked into the room. She smiled.

“So can I.”


End file.
